


Stiles' Hands

by your_friendly_nghbrhd_pan



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cute, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Hand & Finger Kink, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Oblivious Stiles Stilinski, Pining Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 14:32:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19747657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_friendly_nghbrhd_pan/pseuds/your_friendly_nghbrhd_pan
Summary: The moment Derek finds himself totally captivated by the pale fingers of Stiles, he knew that he was completely and utterly fucked.





	Stiles' Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoy! I haven't written a teen wolf fic before so I hope the characters aren't too ooc.

Derek never really jumped at the idea of being around Stiles. Stiles was, for lack of a better word, annoying. With his hyper personality and his ability to speak way too fast for the normal person to understand, he was not someone Derek wanted to be around. Derek preferred those whom understood that silence was a part of his personality and that the quiet was where he felt most at home. But Stiles seemed to find comfort in speaking out the silence as though the thought of such a thing made him nervous or maybe even scared. 

After a while though, Derek adapted to this idea of simply never having silence when Stiles was around, sometimes it felt Stiles was much like the sun, much too bright. So Derek started to wear sunglasses. Maybe it was the more optimistic side of Derek or just his mind playing tricks on him but when Derek found himself alone, he missed the sound of Stiles' voice. He missed the way Stiles enunciated his words and his wild gesticulations that accompanied them, however, if one would ask Derek, he would deny it. Besides having Stiles run his mouth constantly never ceases to annoy but yet also fascinate. 

As time passed, what with the constant threat on Derek's life as well as Stiles' Derek was able to push such ridiculous thoughts aside and simply focus on quite literally not dying. 

However such blissful ignorance did not last. It never does and now Derek must face his miniscule fascination, which somehow while being ignored, morphed into an inexplicably larger one. Really it manifested through a hand on the thigh and dear god, Derek was not expecting Stiles' hand to go anywhere near him nor his thigh. The touch was brief, just a simple brush of skin against denim, a featherlight touch though nonetheless noticable.

That was when it started. Derek's totally obsessive and what he claims to be, innocent adoration of Stiles' hands. 

After that day, all that was on Derek's mind were those hands. Such pure porcelain similar to that of China dolls, dotted with chocolate brown moles. Absolutely mesmerizing, was the way those hands loved to toy with something whether it be picking at the worn leather of the steering wheel or the tapping on Stiles' thigh. Honestly, Derek had become way too enamored by simple limbs that only moved to do daily tasks required but he couldn't help it. Stiles' hands were unbelievably graceful, a stark juxtaposition to his character, in fact maybe it wasn't only his hands that exemplified grace but his whole body. It was just so hard to recognize through the way Stiles carried himself, masterfully disguised by his tumbling lips and giddy character. But maybe Derek didn't quite mind. 

Now watching Stiles drive was a whole other entity in itself, Stiles was quiet when he drives, at least as quiet as he'll get, it's in the way he holds the steering wheel, in the way he taps against the radio if he's really into a song, it's artfully done. Some days Derek wants to take Stiles' hand, feel the peaks and slopes of it, know truly well all the creases mapped out onto his palm, count how many moles he's got in such an open place and see just how well that hand could fit into Derek's. 

Presently being in a car with Stiles had Derek practically drooling over the sophisticated movements of his fingers, although only someone that knew Derek well would be able to tell of his subtle fixation on those hands. Or maybe Stiles was just oblivious. Noticing Derek's intent gaze on the radio, Stiles furrowed his brow and asked, "Uh, do you not like the song? Because if you don't you can totally change it, I mean I'm not even that big of a fan anyway so." 

Derek tore his gaze away from Stiles hands, placing it upon his face. "Huh? No I don't mind the song, " he replied, confused as to why Stiles would even think such a thing. 

"Well you're giving this super intense stare to the radio so I was just wondering," Stiles shrugged and drove on, the forest was where they needed to go to meet up with Scott. A seriously conspicuous place if you asked Derek but what was he to do, Scott just loved meeting up in shady places. With Stiles simple quip, Derek realized, not for the first time that, he was being a little too obvious about the staring, although Stiles seemed to have mistaken the object of Derek's intense stare. So, for the rest of the car ride Derek kept his eyes strictly on the road. 

°°°  
Derek was currently in Stiles' room. Having needed Stiles for something or other but currently Derek was quite distracted. It was the middle of the night because of course Derek had to show up at night, though in all seriousness he only came to the realization of needing Stiles help at night. Although maybe he should've thought better of it, being the middle of the night and all, as now he's faced with a nearly naked Stiles and that was totally not what was expected. 

But what did Derek expect? That Stiles just didn't sleep? Maybe. But now Stiles is clad in boxer briefs, softly yelling at Derek for using the window and not even texting beforehand because what if he was doing ungodly things? Though Derek isn't even paying attention, he's counting the number of moles that are on Stiles' chest because he didn't even know they went down that far. It's picturesque, much more fascinating than the night sky outside, dotted with moles like parts of a constellation, and maybe if he looked at them closer he'd find more than one. 

And then Stiles is in his personal space, probably figuring Derek was not listening. He whispers to Derek, "okay I know you don't even care that much but please actually text before you just leap through the damn window. Also it's the middle of the night what could possibly be that important that you need to wake me up in the middle of the fucking night!" 

Derek is dumbfounded.

"Hello? Earth to Derek, you there?" Stiles waved his hand in front of Derek's face, trying to bring him out of his stupor. And that could've possibly been the number one thing Stiles should not have done. Now Derek finds himself grabbing Stiles' wrist, just to stop him from waving in my face, Derek tells himself but he knows the real reason, it'll be the closest thing he'll get to holding Stiles' hand. 

"Don't do that. It's distracting." Derek tells him, eyes boring into Stiles' ignoring how much Derek wants to feel his hand. Ignoring how much he wants Stiles to use those fingers to ghost over his skin, to touch parts of him he'd never bare to anyone else, to touch him in the most intimate places. 

Now Stiles is getting a tad bit nervous, swallowing his nerves down he says, "okay?" Wow. Is it getting hot in here or is it just Stiles? Derek is a little too close for his comfort, not used to being anything close to intimate with Derek. But the way he's holding Stiles' wrist and the way he's boring his eyes into Stiles' is nerve wracking. Derek's grip is too tight for comfort but when a Derek Hale is practically pressed up against you and holding your wrist, Stiles opts to say nothing at all, for one scared that if he tries to speak his voice will turn into a squeak; that would totally not be manly. Stiles' eyes are bouncing across the room, trying to find something, anything to distract him from what he considers the most unexpected and alarmingly arousing experience of his life. Though he doesn't get much action anyway so can you blame him? 

The silence settles over them like a blanket, Derek is much too nervous to move or say anything. His heart, palpitating, threatening to burst out his chest at this point. But surprisingly, Derek breaks the silence with, "uh, sorry, I should probably, um, go?" And with that Derek is at the window sill, leaving Stiles by his lonesome in the most confused state of being in his life. 

What the fuck was that?! Derek asks himself, lamenting over his uncontrollable urge to have those hands on him or maybe even have his hands on Stiles. He drags a hand down his face, feeling just how hot his cheeks truly are. "Is this, is this what a crush feels like?" He whispers to himself, "oh dear god no." It seems like tonight is the night for revelations. This was so not how it was supposed to go. Derek was supposed to keep this embarrassingly huge secret to himself, although Stiles is too dense to figure it out, now they're going to be weird around each other and that is the last thing Derek needs. He groans, when finally finding himself at home he decides that the best course of action would be to hit his head against the wall, regretting his life choices.

°°°  
Stiles is truly a confused soul. Derek suddenly shows up in the middle of the night, practically gets all up on him and then promptly leaves. Like who does that? Stiles was left to ponder over such a confusing turn of events while fighting the aftertaste of arousal way too late at night. All in all, he is shocked, he never thought, ever in his life he'd come that close to Derek but now he has and he doesn't know what to do about it. 

It felt so intimate; it felt so warm having Derek just a breadth away from him, honestly, he wouldn't mind if Derek were to ever do that once more. Now, without that warmth Stiles feels empty and cold. He never thought that this would have this sort of effect on him, Stiles is terrified of Derek but in that moment just him and Derek, Derek didn't seem so bad. He just seemed like a regular person and not the werewolf that he is. Although Stiles does recognize that he has humanity, this is the first time he has ever experienced it, he's seen the slight softening of Derek's hard eyes, though it is a rare occasion. 

Stiles finds himself missing Derek. 

That is new. Such a feeling he reserved for family and friends (also Lydia but besides the point, he's over her, he swears). He's never even had such a feeling other than perhaps Lydia, whom he practically drooled over everytime she walked by, she was someone Stiles had missed, still does miss in a way. And now he's got these feelings for Derek of all people all because he waltz into Stiles' room and just invaded his space with all of that muscled glory. Gosh, Derek was so rude. Now, they both have to bear the awkwardness that comes with Stiles' new revelations and that was going to be an uncomfortable one, Stiles doesn't even know how to react to this newfound feeling. He's never had such feelings for another man before, this was all so complicated and new. Tomorrow was going to be difficult. 

°°°  
Tomorrow came all too quickly for Derek, he's been positively panicking since coming back from his place last night. Stiles and Scott are supposed to come over after their school so that they can go over all the information about a new creature sneaking up on their town. 

The tension was unbearable, Derek and Stiles moved so robotically around each almost as if they were robots, it was mechanical and carefully calculated. Poor Scott was oblivious to the tension, acting his usual self although a little too peppy for Derek's liking. The words that came out of Stiles' and Scott's mouth fell to deaf ears, Derek too entranced by Stiles' hands.

Those lithe fingers skimming the words of an ancient novel, they were so sinful in the way his hands moved, graceful. Derek couldn't tear his gaze away, it was all too tempting to simply watch and observe and imagine. Imagine those hands instead of skimming the novel, caressing his skin or maybe even digging into him. Imagine those hands gripping his hair, scratching Derek's scalp. Derek wants those hands on him, traversing the planes of his body, studying every dip and curve with those fingers, oh god those fingers. 

So maybe Derek has a bit of drool seeping from the side of his mouth and Scott might be giving him a confused look but Derek doesn't really care. He's too distracted and he is really considering locking Scott outside his house and having his way with Stiles because for some reason he's looking especially irresistible today. Although Derek could never, he'd be way too shy to even do so much as hint to Stiles that he'd like to be a little more than just friends. So, Derek sticks to simply watching. 

Scott leaves first. He doesn't know why but Stiles stayed telling Scott that he had to talk to Derek about something. Derek is sweating so profusely his palms are damp and he can feel the sweat beginning to absorb into his cotton shirt. His anxiety is bottled up and so close to bursting at the seams that he has to slow down and learn how to breathe properly once again. It is so utterly and totally unfair that Stiles is just *that* good-looking. Nevertheless, after Derek's mini breakdown, he looks up at Stiles expectantly, after all he was the one who wanted to stay just a tad bit longer with Derek so maybe he has something he wants to say. Maybe he'll say exactly what Derek has been waiting for and is too scared to say himself.

"So, uh, Derek, I was kinda wondering, what happened last night?" 

Derek stood frozen for a minute. What was he going to say to Stiles? I thought you were really sexy and couldn't keep myself in check? Or how about your hands turn me on and it was too much? Or maybe sometimes I dream about you and I doing things that would make even your grandmother blush? What does he even say? He went to Stiles room because in that moment alone by himself, he wanted Stiles and had missed him terribly. But honestly, that's something he never wants to admit. Derek is sensual and he knows it, by the way he walks, the way he just directs his stare, and his stoic features they spell out sensual in the most obvious way possible. It's just, he's never felt *this* seriously about anyone before. This has blossomed before his eyes like a flower as spring comes, slow and meticulously and he doesn't even really know what to make of it. 

Stiles takes Derek's silence and rolls with it, continuing, "Look, I was just freaked out and confused when you left, like dude really? You can't just come into my house in the middle of the night, get practically all up on me and then leave. That's just not how it works."

"I like your hands," Derek says it before he can even stop himself, what does he have to lose? A lot. But now it's done and over with, Derek is ready for that freaked out look Stiles should be giving at any given moment now. 

"I'm sorry, what?" Stiles asks, with a quirked brow, taking it much better than Derek thought he would.

"I like your hands," Derek says once more, slower this time, "and your face and your body and you." Well if Derek's gonna admit to it he might as well admit to everything anyway. Derek ends up keeping his gaze locked on the floor throughout this altercation for fear of having Stiles give him that wretched look of disgust.

"You like...my hands," Stiles repeats, "and me?"

"Yes Stiles. I do." Derek looks up at Stiles taking a glance at his raised brow and the quirked corner of his mouth and smiles. "I like everything about you." Stiles is now blushing profusely, placing a hand over his mouth, presumably to prevent Derek from seeing his smile. Derek wasn't about to allow that. He came up into Stiles' space, gently wrapping his fingers around his wrist. "I want to see you," Derek says, "all of you." Stiles is positively fire engine red, he could be seen all the way from the North Pole. So Derek lifts Stiles' hand away from his mouth, seeing Stiles' timid smile. 

"Derek, I uh, I don't know what to say."

"Well, here, let me ask you a question. Would you mind if I kissed you? If I put my hands all over you?" Sure, Derek would have never had the guts to say this before, but what the hell, he thinks, he's already admitted to liking everything about the man. 

"Oh my God, okay I did not expect you to that. Wow." Stiles is an utter wreak from the inside out, at just the thought of Derek's hands on him, he feels a twang of arousal course through him. He's never had anyone so rawly express feelings such as these for him. Ever. In his eighteen years of living and now, here was Derek someone he's known for years. And now he's asking to touch Stiles all over? He's always thought Derek was kinda hot in that totally not gay male appreciation. Turns out, he may be a little gay. Derek is still all up in his space, every word that comes out of his mouth, lingers in the air like the smoke after a cigarette. Stiles is beyond nervous, playing with the tips of his fingers just to have something to do other than think of the prospect Derek has just given him. 

Derek grows more aware of Stiles' nervousness when he sees him fidgeting, suddenly his approach goes from seductive to concerned, saying, "hey, hey, hey Stiles' it's okay. It's okay, you don't need to feel pressured into doing anything. God, I'm sorry I didn't mean to-" 

"No, it's not that. I, just it was not expected, I guess." Stiles looks up at Derek through his thick lashes, playing with his finger tips still just so damn nervous. Derek just smiles down at him, a smile he's never before seen occur on Derek's face like a rare flower blooming for the first time in one hundred years. It's absolutely nerve-wracking, Stiles is, quite frankly, a mess of emotions and he doesn't know what to do about it. So, he places a hand on Derek's chest because he's always been curious and he needs to steady himself from all of this, the feeling of Derek's warmth under his palm soothes Stiles. 

At Stiles' touch, Derek sucks in a breath, just that feeling of having any part of Stiles, especially his hands, touching him is divine. With such a satisfying touch, comes a deep rumble from Derek, like a dog satisfied by a good petting. Derek places his hands over Stiles', saying, "don't stop." Then Stiles is exploring the expanse of his chest, stepping closer to him and Derek can't get enough. His breath quickening, a low groan escapes his throat as he lets his head fall back. Derek can't get enough, how long had he been fantasizing about this? How long had he been hoping and wishing for this? And now, here is Stiles, sliding his hands over every part of Derek's chest, Derek is in heaven. 

"Derek," Stiles coaxes Derek out of his reverie with the soft sound of his voice. Derek moves his head back to Stiles', locks eyes with him and smiles. A kind of eye curling smile that contorts the face in an uplifting way; it's bright enough to blind. 

"Yeah?" 

"Kiss me."


End file.
